Untitled
by OneMoreGirl
Summary: A late night phone call prompts an interesting situation. [HC].


Cameron walked in, the pile of books she was carrying toppling onto the table, sending the flower-filled vase tumbling to the floor with a rather loud crash. She'd carried the books all the way up the stairs and her arms were killing her. Two flights of stairs with a stack of books practically taller than she was, was not her idea of a Saturday morning stroll. Next time the elevator's out, she reminded herself, do not bring books to work.

"Can I help you?" House's usual sarcastic tone sounded from behind her. Slightly startled by the abrupt interruption to her thoughts, Cameron turned to see House sitting with his feet propped up on the tray of the white board, Gameboy in hand.

"No, I'm fine thank you," she said in an effort, to hide her surprise. She should have expected him to be in this early.

"Having a party or something?" He asked, his eyes glued firmly to the tiny screen in front of him.

"No," Cameron said somewhat irritably, "these are the books you asked me to bring in so we could try and figure out what's wrong with the girl."

"What girl?" House asked, still not looking up. Cameron stared at him for a minute, trying to decide if he was joking, or if he was really serious. Judging by his utter lack of emotion, she began to wonder if there was in fact a patient. The usual interest House showed in a case seemed to be anything but existent. Confused by this, Cameron answered carefully, "The one you called me about last night. You said to bring the books in this morning and we'd get started, you said..." she trailed off. She could swear House was almost smiling at her. He was. He was laughing at her. House laughing was rather odd, she thought. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him laugh.

Finally, Cameron's growing look of annoyance, mixed with what he perceived to be shock, brought an end to his obvious enjoyment of the situation.

"You actually thought I was serious?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Cameron posed, looking slightly less shocked and more annoyed.

"I thought the comment about calling you in the middle of the night so I could ask you what you were wearing would have done the trick."

Cameron stared at him for a minute remembering the call from the night before. She'd just stepped out of the shower when he'd called; she'd been towel-drying her hair when the phone had begun to ring. She could have let the machine pick it up, but when she'd seen it was from House, she'd scooped up the phone without a moment's hesitation. Cameron didn't know what she had expected, but she hadn't expected that the midnight phone call would have been about work. Disappointed despite her attempts at rationalization, she'd listened politely as he, in his usual way, described the case to her in the most unenthusiastic tone he could master. A ten-year-old girl, presenting with a high fever, bouts of delusions, and severe nausea and abdominal pain.

Unconvinced that House was calling about anything more than a case of the flu with delusions induced by a high fever, she'd asked him why he was really calling.

To her surprise, he'd answered without a moment's hesitation, "I wanted to know what you were wearing. Let me guess," he said before she could recover from the frankness of his answer, "You're wearing one of those cheap pajama sets from a generic department store and one of those ungodly priced _sexy_ panty sets from Victoria's Secret."

In the silence after his response, she'd stammered on her end of the line, unsure of how to answer his startlingly accurate description, "I..."

"Earth to Cameron," House's voice resonated. She shook her head. That wasn't what he'd said, she'd...

"Or have the aliens already gotten to you?" House's voice persisted as Cameron's vision cleared. She was standing at the edge of the conference table, books toppled in front of her, watching House play some stupid "kill-the-aliens" game; the phone call the night before just a distant memory.

"Never mind," she said, recovering slowly. "I guess I'll just take these back home then," she finished piling the books atop one another, turning towards the door, leaving House to watch her retreating back, as she headed to the stairs.

Out of sight of the door, Cameron shook her head, inexplicably pleased. A smile crossed her face. He might never admit it, but she knew he'd called her for more than just twisted entertainment.

As her figure disappeared down the hall, his usually stoic face contorted and his eyes gleamed. Drawing his attention back to the Gameboy in his hands, he could almost see her scantily clad figure standing before her counter cradling the phone between her neck and ear. Resuming the game, he mused; she really is that beautiful.


End file.
